Find A Way
by Ms. Mollie Prewett
Summary: Hermione and Draco hook up after a night of drinking, but it soon becomes much more than a one night stand, I changed the title because the story has grown and there are a lot of other fics called The Morning After
1. Chapter 1: Gryffindor Guilt

Chapter 1 Gryffindor Guilt

Hermione Granger was in trouble. Of all the people she could have snuck into the Room of Requirement with last night, why bloody hell did it have to be Draco Malfoy? Sure he was good looking in a pale, angular sort of way, and she had been stealing looks at him during Potions all year and thinking sordid thoughts, but he was also arrogant, cruel, and not to mention a Mudblood-hating Death Eater for Merlin's sake – just the type of person that she, as a Gryffindor and a Muggle-born, was predisposed to hate with a passion. And before last night, she was certain that she did.

At first she had tried to convince herself that it was simply a result of copious amounts of alcohol consumed at The Three Broomsticks, but the more she thought about it, she realized she only had 4 butter beers and a Firewhiskey, and after countless nights keeping up with the legendary drinking habits of Ron and the twins, she knew that drunkenness was not a plausible excuse for sleeping with Malfoy. Ever. Slytherin wanker that he was. Is, she silently chided herself, still is. She could not pretend that he was something else just because her lapse in judgment had given her carnal knowledge of the tall, pale, blonde. But she couldn't worry about that right now. She had to find all of her clothes and get the hell out of the Room without waking the snoring, still naked Malfoy. She had to admit, he looked rather fit against the black satin sheets the Room had provided for them – platinum hair uncharacteristically messy against his pillow, pale skin thinly concealing lean muscles across his arms and chest, the light pooling flatteringly on his toned abs. Hermione felt a pang of guilt as she realized she was somewhat disappointed that the sheets prevented her from seeing any lower…

Snapping back to reality, Hermione scanned the room and found her dress draped precariously on the lamp on the nightstand, her bra and panties at the foot of the king sized bed. Her shoes were nowhere to be found, but Hermione knew she had to get out of there, fast. Her ballet flats, like her dignity, would have to be a casualty of this catastrophic bout of temporary insanity. She could get new shoes; she could not get caught sneaking out of a bed containing a disrobed Draco Malfoy. She inched her way carefully out from under the covers, moving painstakingly slowly to avoid disturbing the slumbering scumbag next to her. She had to admit she found a bit of twisted satisfaction knowing that the impeccable, flawlessly manicured, controlled Pureblood prat Draco Malfoy snored and drooled in his sleep. She winced as her bare feet slapped the stone floor much louder than she had anticipated, but glancing back at Malfoy, she breathed a silent sigh of relief to see that he was still sound asleep. She pulled her clothes on quickly and quietly as she reached them, noting with considerable shame that the events of the previous night left her blissfully sore between her shapely thighs.

She got all the way to the door before a sleep-thickened but still oil-slick voice drawled "Where are you off to in such a hurry, sugar tits?" Her jaw instinctively clenched at the sound and she growled through gritted teeth "Call me that again and I'll hex off your pathetic excuse for a prick, Malfoy". She glared at him over her shoulder, a look that he was all too familiar with, although she usually wasn't pulling a dress over her delectable breasts and sporting a formidable love bite on her neck when she narrowed her wide brown eyes at the smug, pale face with piercing grey ones. He smirked at her roguishly before he looked away in search of his own clothing.

She smoothed her jumper down quickly before hurrying out of the Room, praying that she could get through the corridors and up from the common room before Harry, Ron, or any of her fellow Gryffindors noticed that she had tragically misplaced her shoes.

Luckily for Hermione, it was just before 6:00 AM, and the corridors were empty. She made it back to the Gryffindor common room without incident, unless you count a rather judgmental look from the Fat Lady as she swung her portrait up to let Hermione into the Tower. The common room was also deserted, and all the girls in her dormitory were sleeping soundly as she silently climbed into bed to try and sleep away the events of the past 12 hours. However, the harder she tried, the more apparent it became that she was not going to be able to sleep, thoughts of Draco Malfoy's impossibly pale, muscular form dancing through her head. Might as well embrace it, she thought. Maybe if she retraced her steps from the night before, she could figure out why, to borrow a phrase from her ginger-haired best friend, in the name of Merlin's most baggy y-fronts, she had decided that sleeping with Draco Malfoy was acceptable and rational behavior. She let herself drift into hazy memories as she settled languidly under the covers of her four-poster.


	2. Chapter 2: Slytherin Sex

Chapter 2 Slytherin Sex

The night had started off innocently enough, all the older Hogwarts students celebrating the first Hogsmeade weekend by shopping and drinking in the sleepy little village. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had wandered through the village, stopping in Honeydukes and Zonko's before ending up at The Three Broomsticks where they sat down to enjoy a few butterbeers as more and more students from all four Houses filtered into the cheery pub. Enter Draco Malfoy and his band of Slytherin goons, headed by Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and the detestable Pansy Parkinson. Much to her dismay, Hermione had found herself transfixed by the tall blonde, drifting in and out of the conversation with her friends as she watched him, astonished at how fluid and graceful Draco's movements were, and yet how powerful and masculine he seemed, clad in a fitted black suit that framed his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly.

She now realized that Malfoy must have been watching her too, because the moment she stepped outside to clear her head of the unholy and unwholesome thoughts she currently bore towards Draco Malfoy, there he was, standing uncomfortably close to her, drowning her in his intoxicating scent, a mind-blowing and surprising mixture of what smelled like sandalwood and citrus. Gathering her wits about her as best she could, Hermione managed to croak out "What exactly do you want, Malfoy?" Stepping impossibly near the slightly trembling brunette, he tilted her chin up towards his stoic face and growled out a sultry "You, Granger. I. Want. You"

His lips crashed into hers, hungrily seeking her tongue, nibbling her bottom lip as his hands twisted into her soft curly hair. Before her mind could protest, her body was swept away by a traitorous wave of desire. Hermione kissed him back forcefully, pressing her body flush with his as she wrapped both arms around his waist. He somehow wordlessly convinced her to come back to the castle with him, a carriage ride that flew by impossibly fast, the two sixth years exploring each other's mouths and bodies with eager, roaming tongues and hands.

They sped through empty corridors, stealing sloppy, wet kisses in dark corners on the way to the Room of Requirement, all the while Malfoy making filthy, kinky promises of what he was going to do to her when they got there. Normally, Hermione was not one for dirty talk, but when Draco Malfoy dragged his teeth along her earlobe and whispered "I'm gonna fuck you until you forget your own name, Granger" it was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling beneath her.

Finally, just when she thought the anticipation would kill her, they stumbled through the door and into the sexiest, most opulent bedroom either of them had ever seen. A thousand candles floated all around them, concentrated around an intricately carved mahogany king sized bed covered in black satin sheets that were already turned down for their convenience. The pair kicked off their shoes, and Malfoy savagely grabbed her under her arse and carried her to the bed, licking and biting her neck as his growing erection pressed into her, sending shivers down her spine and leaving her red lace panties damp with desire. Draco dropped her roughly on the bed, and Hermione pulled her dress quickly over her head and tossed it away as the blonde made quick work of getting out of his jacket, shirt, and trousers. Their frantic pace momentarily halted as the lovers were taken aback by the sight of each other's near-nakedness. Hermione breathed in sharply as her brown eyes scanned the muscular, boxer-clad form of Draco Malfoy, not failing to notice the sizeable bulge barely contained beneath the thin fabric. Malfoy, for his part, was in awe of the figure laid out before him – creamy skin and red lingerie creating a striking contrast to the black sheets, silhouetting Granger's curvaceous figure enticingly. Draco couldn't help but let his eyes linger over the girl's breasts, which were much larger than he would have guessed seeing her in school robes. His eyes drifted down her flat stomach to note with a shiver of pleasure that her panties were already near soaking with lust.

Suddenly, the trance was broken and their need brought Draco crawling across the bed, pressing the length of his slender body against her supple curves, eliciting a moan of pleasure from his lips as he felt her body tense and then relax beneath him. Spurred on by the sensation of Malfoy's weight on top of her, Hermione clawed at his back with long, slender fingers as he began to trail kisses along her jaw line, down her neck and towards her already taut nipples that strained deliciously at the lace of her bra. Hermione gasped as soft, full lips closed around the bud of her nipple through the material, and she propped herself up on her elbows briefly to undo the clasp so she could give his hot, wet mouth full access to her breasts. Draco pulled the fabric back slowly, teasing her, causing her to writhe in pleasurable anticipation. A low growl rose from the back of Malfoy's throat as he got a full view of Granger's bare bosom. The growl got louder and more primal, more urgent as, at the same moment, Hermione's hand snaked seductively along the hem of his boxers, causing his cock to twitch involuntarily. "Fuck Granger, I didn't expect you to be quite so brilliant at this". Much to his surprise, Hermione, without missing a beat, huskily replied, "Piss off Malfoy, just fuck me already. I want your hard cock inside me".

Needing no further encouragement, Draco slid the red panties down to her ankles and began licking hungrily at Hermione's wet folds, finding her clit and causing her to cry out in ecstasy. He came back up to kiss her and she deftly took his erection in her hand, his hips bucking into her hand with pleasure. Growing tired of the foreplay and teasing, Hermione flipped Draco over with surprising grace and ease and prepared to guide his member inside her. "Now Malfoy, I'm going to make you forget _your_name_" _

She sat on his thick cock, groaning with pleasure as he cried out "Merlin, you're so tight!" His erection filled her completely as she began to grind on top of him, tits bouncing as his hips rose up in rhythm with her movements. He reached forward to rub her clit with his thumb, and she dragged her bottom lip through her teeth to keep from screaming his name. His other hand reached up to fondle her breasts, and within a few moments of Draco's skillful ministrations, Hermione's body shuddered and shook with the power of her orgasm. The sensation of her orgasm causing her to tighten around him sent Draco over the edge, and he spasmed as he came into her tight, hot pussy. They rode the wave of pleasure together for a few moments before Hermione collapsed next to him, both teens breathing heavily, skin glistening with sweat and satiated desire. They lay together wordlessly; Hermione's arm draped across Draco's chest, his hand nesting in her sweat-dampened chestnut brown curls and they both quickly fell asleep, breathing in the scent of each other, and of the mind-blowing orgasm they had just shared.

Hermione was jolted from her remembering by the sound of one of her roommates getting into the shower. Slowly coming back to reality, Hermione reaffirmed that she could never again let herself lose control like that with Draco Malfoy, but the memory of their encounter she would happily tuck away for a rainy day when she could draw the curtains on her four-poster and employ a vibrating charm she was eager to practice.


	3. Chapter 3: Ravenclaw Reasoning

A few days after "the incident" as Hermione had come to call it, she felt that she had come to grips with her encounter with Draco Malfoy. She accepted that she had not slept with Draco because she was drunk, nor had she done it because she was jealous of Ron's relationship with Lavender Brown. After all, after a summer full of brilliant shagging at the Burrow, the pair had decided that they'd be better off just friends, and even though Lavender was a bit ditsy, she was nice enough, and Ron seemed happy, so cheers to him, she thought.

She had slept with Draco for one reason, and one reason only. She wanted to, and had wanted to for quite some time now. There was something magnetic about the way the tall blonde moved, a fluidity in his body language that mesmerized Hermione to the point where the usually diligent student had trouble listening to Professor Snape because she was watching Malfoy stir his cauldron or turn the pages of his copy of Advanced Potion Making.

The thing was, the more she thought about it, Hermione realized two things. The first was that Draco must have wanted it as long as she had. For one thing, it was absolutely not a coincidence that he stepped outside at the exact moment that she did. For another, she recognized that more often than not, when she was stealing glances at Draco, he met her eyes; he was watching her too. In light of that exhilarating revelation, she had another. She still wanted Draco. And judging by his eagerness and enthusiasm the other night, and the fact that he was male and inherently a horny bugger, she had a hunch that he would feel the same way.

No, Hermione chided herself. No matter how hot the sex had been (and Merlin knows, it had been hot), she could not sleep with Draco Malfoy again. He was a Slytherin, and the sworn enemy of her best friend, and not to mention, he was generally a foul, loathsome cockroach, even if he did have a fantastic bum and a sinfully talented tongue. On second thought, it was only sex. It would clearly be unadvisable for Hermione to _date_ Draco Malfoy, but simply sleeping with him didn't seem as grave a transgression, especially if no one found out.

She needed to talk to someone about this, and she obviously couldn't go to Harry and Ron, or even Ginny, her usual confidante when it came to all things girly and dramatic. Who could she rely on to be objective and logical about this whole mess? Of course, Luna! Hermione was kicking herself for not thinking of her level-headed, Ravenclaw friend before. Luna would give her sound advice without the prejudice that she would obviously face if she went to any of her fellow Gryffindors. That settled it, she would talk to Luna the first chance she got.

That chance came the very next day, when Hermione was walking through the courtyard and spotted Luna, reading an upside-down copy of The Quibbler through her spectrespecs and humming absent-mindedly to herself. "Oi, Luna!" Hermione called cheerily. "Oh hello there Hermione", Luna replied, looking up briefly to smile at her chestnut-haired friend. "Luna, are you busy? I was just…erm, I was wondering could I talk to you for a bit?" Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot as she spoke, more nervous than she cared to admit.

"Certainly, I suppose you'll be wanting to talk about sleeping with Draco Malfoy then" Luna replied in a matter-of-fact tone that made Hermione's jaw drop in disbelief. "How did you…I just…what…yes" she managed to get out as her face turned a deep, humiliated shade of scarlet.

"Don't worry, I don't think anyone else knows, it's just well, you two have been staring at each other almost non-stop since the beginning of term, until a few days ago, when you started avoiding looking at him at all, so I just thought that must have been the reason", Luna remarked casually, as if this news was nothing alarming, even though as Hermione listened, her legs seemed to have forgotten how to walk and Luna practically had to drag her out of the courtyard toward the Astronomy Tower where Luna thought they would have enough privacy to discuss her clever friend's recent exploits with a certain tall, mysterious blonde.

The walk to the Tower seemed to last an eternity as Hermione struggled to gather her thoughts, her head swimming with a thousand questions about how Luna knew, not to mention desperately scrambling to work out how she was going to explain herself to Luna. Even though she knew that Luna was her most open-minded, non-judgmental friend, it wasn't as if she had simply snuck a peek at the boys changing out of Quidditch robes, she had banged Draco sodding Malfoy!

The two girls finally reached the top of the Astronomy Tower, Hermione quickly uttering "Homenum Revelio" and casting Muffliato to ensure that they were alone and that if anyone did climb the Tower, their conversation would remain private. Then and only then did Hermione, nervously wringing her hands, take a deep breath and attempt to tell Luna the story of exactly what had transpired the other night between her and Draco.

Hermione paced back and forth in front of Luna, who was a picture of all the serenity and calm that the normally composed Gryffindor was not feeling. She had no idea where to start, but seeing as she was nearly bursting with all of the things she hadn't said, words just started to spill out of her like water from a broken pipe.

"It's not as if I fancy him, I mean, he is rather fit and absolutely fantastic in the sack, but he's still a right foul git, not to mention that Ron, Harry, and everyone I know apart from you would either die of shock or skin me alive if they knew…" Hermione chanced a look in Luna's direction, and thankfully, Luna's expression remained curious and impassive, giving her courage enough to continue. "…but on the other hand, like I said, the bloke is mind-blowingly good in bed, and seeing as my nose has been stuck so firmly in one book or another for the past five years, I haven't had any real fun, nor have I done anything remotely rebellious and I think maybe it could be a bit liberating to break the rules for a while, especially if I get to…"

Hermione trailed off, vestiges of her prudishness as a young girl preventing her from saying out loud to her friend the naughty things she would get to do if she made a habit of sleeping with the sexiest bloke in Slytherin. Luna looked up at Hermione, and seeing her slowly losing herself to lustful thoughts of Malfoy, she took the opportunity to offer what little bit of advice she could to her distraught friend.

"Listen, Hermione, don't fret love. No one other than me will find out about you and Draco. First of all, and please don't be upset at this, but his friends aren't likely to react any more favorably than yours would if they came to find out about you two shagging, so I'm sure he'll want to keep it a secret as well. And you needn't worry about him not wanting to sleep with you, he's a boy, after all, and I'm sure he thinks you're brilliant in bed as well. So really, the only thing you'll have to work out is how to get him alone and tell him that you want to shag him again, or regularly if that's what you fancy."

Hermione breathed an emphatic sigh of relief, amazed by how at ease Luna's reaction had made her feel. She had expected that Luna would make her feel better, and that she would help her figure out what to do about her predicament, but she had not expected Luna to have handed her the solution and peace of mind sewn up in such a neat, tidy package. Now all that was left was to devise a plan to get Malfoy alone and alert him to her intentions to shag him senseless at every available opportunity.


	4. Chapter 4: Hufflepuff Hesitation

**Hi everyone! Sorry it has taken me so long to post this chapter, life has been crazy and I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with the story. If you like it, please review and let me know. If not, please review and let me know :) I'll try to get the next chapter up ASAP. Thanks!**

Draco was pacing angrily back and forth in front of the fireplace in the empty Slytherin common room, disgusted with himself at the revelation he was having. A week had passed since his night with Granger in the Room of Requirement, and he still could not get the brunette witch out of his thoughts. At first, he just chalked it up to the Gryffindor being surprisingly brilliant in bed. Sure, she was fit, but Draco had assumed that since she was so bookish, she would also be a right prude; he could not have been more wrong. She was undeniably the best shag he'd ever had, and coming from Draco, that was saying something. He had slept with most of the girls in their year, and when the mood struck him, a few blokes as well. But none of his former conquests compared to Granger.

The fact that an insufferable know-it-all Mudblood was the best shag of his life was troubling to Draco, but it was not what had him pacing the common room like a lion stalking a gazelle. The thing that had the blonde so distraught was the fact that he could not seem to get Granger off of his mind. It was a given that he thought about her while wanking, Merlin, look at the girl. It was also assumed that Draco wanted to sleep with her again, given how bloody fantastic it had been the first time. The thing that had his stomach tied in knots was that he was also thinking of the blasted goody-Gryffindor in a non-sexual way. More and more often over the past several days, he had to wrench himself out of daydreams about her smile, or the way her messy ringlets fell so beautifully around her face, or the - Draco gagged at his use of this adjective- _adorable_ dusting of freckles across the young witch's nose.

Draco reeled at the impossibility of it all, he was certain, before that fateful night, that he hated the girl. She was a bloody Gryffindor, not to mention bosom buddies with Harry fucking Potter and the Weasel. But something happened in the Room of Requirement that changed everything. After they had made love – again, Draco shuddered at his vernacular, Slytherins did not make love, they _fucked_ – Hermione had closed her eyes and tenderly draped her arm across Draco's chest, still glistening with vestiges of satiated lust. In that moment, Draco felt an overwhelming need to care for the beautiful creature that lay in his arms. He felt something he had never experienced before, something wonderful and decidedly un-Slytherin; as he listened to the shallow breathing of the girl nestled in the crook of his arm, he felt warm and content and breathless all at once, and he knew that something deep inside him, something that years of living under Lucius Malfoy's unforgiving rule had suppressed, had been brought to light by a simple gesture of affection from someone who had no reason to care for him in the least.

Emotionally spent, Draco slumped onto an overstuffed couch, only to have another soul crushing realization. He was certain that the girl who he could not get out of his mind was not thinking of him at all, let alone in conjunction with such sappy, preteen girlish adjectives. Hell, she had probably obliviated herself so she never had to remember the night that she probably considered to be the gravest mistake of her carefully calculated life. Despite this self-deprecating train of thought, Draco could not help but hold on to hope that he was wrong. After all, she had not been drinking heavily that night, so it was not a case of drunken miscalculation, and she did not, after they had shagged, immediately snatch up her clothes and run away. In fact, she spent the entire night in his embrace, actually _cuddled_with the boy, so maybe she didn't find him as vile as Draco thought.

After a few more sleepless nights pondering the many possibilities of how Granger felt about him, how he felt about her, and how he should proceed, Draco could not stand it anymore. He would have to swallow his Slytherin pride and speak to Hermione in person. He could not risk sending an owl for fear of her receiving the letter in the company of her two loathsome male companions, Merlin knows the disaster that would cause. He would have to find Hermione alone and explain things, explain that he was not just another stupid prat looking to shag anything with tits and a skirt, and apologize for the whole "sugar tits" thing. For the life of him Draco could not figure out why he had said such a vulgar thing to such a lovely creature.

Draco was concerned about finding Granger without the leeches, Potter and Weasley, but his concerns faded away and his curiosity piqued the next day during Potions, when Hermione slipped him a torn corner of parchment that read "Astronomy Tower. 4:00. Come alone". Draco was simultaneously exhilarated and terrified at the prospect of being alone with the object of his newfound affections. On the one hand, this might turn into just the opportunity he had been looking for to tell her what was going on inside his hopelessly jumbled mind, to apologize, and let her know that he wanted more than just a one-time brilliant shag from her. Although, if he and his hormones were being honest, he _was_aching to have her again. On the other hand, maybe Hermione was plotting to get Draco alone and hex his balls off for taking advantage of her and maybe it was best if he didn't show up. _No_, Draco thought with resolve, _I__have__to__at__least__try__to__apologize__and__explain__myself,__I__owe__her__that.__And__possibly__deserve__to__be__hexed_, he thought ruefully.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, Draco's heartbeat steadily increasing as he watched the clock inch closer and closer to 3:30, the end of his last class of the day. When Professor Trelawney dismissed the class from an unmercifully long and painfully dull double block of Divination, Draco practically ran back to his dormitory to change out of his Slytherin robes and fix his hair. _How__girly__of__me_, Draco mused, but nonetheless, he had appearances to uphold and Merlin be damned if Granger was going to look better than he did the first time they _really_ looked at each other since "that night".

If the time between receiving Hermione's note and the time she asked Draco to meet her seemed to fly by, the walk from the dungeons to the Astronomy Tower was the longest journey of his life. First of all, he was constantly looking over his shoulder, petrified that someone would follow him and find him out. Secondly, he was anticipating seeing Hermione with excitement and trepidation; he desperately wanted to see her, touch her, kiss her, but he didn't want to fuck things up and blow his chances with her, which he was likely to do if he tried to explain himself.

His feet felt like they were made of lead as he trudged up what felt like a thousand stairs up to the top of the Tower, his heart pounding in his chest like some kind of syncopated bass drum. A million thoughts raced through his mind as he reached the top of the winding stone staircase, but they all fell away, along with his ability to speak, when he saw Hermione standing there, waiting for him. In fact, everything seemed to fall away, save his heart beating loudly in his ears and the absolutely perfect woman standing in front of him.


	5. Chapter 5: Hogwarts Happenings

**Hi everyone, and happy almost Christmas! Sorry about the delay in updating, it took a long time for me to figure out how I wanted this chapter to go, and to get the dialogue right. Hopefully the lemons will help you forgive me ;)**

Hermione was waiting for Draco at the top of the Astronomy Tower, more and more nervous with each passing minute. She had rushed back to her room after Arithmancy to change out of her school robes and attempt to somewhat tame her unruly brown mane. After several outfits, she settled on a purple sweater with a rather low v-neck, dark jeans, and the ballet flats that she had recently retrieved from the Room of Requirement. She didn't want to appear to be trying too hard, but considering how well-dressed Draco always was, and that her aim was to convince him to shag her, she wanted to look sexy in a not-too-obvious sort of way.

A thousand thoughts and a million images danced across Hermione's consciousness, but they all faded into nothingness and her breath hitched in her chest as a tall, slender figure appeared at the top of the stone staircase. All her feverish thoughts melded together and converged into one word, the only word in the English language that she seemed to be able to remember. Barely more than a whisper, Hermione looked into his hauntingly beautiful slate grey eyes and murmured his name "Draco". Hearing her use his given name for the first time in 6 years proved to be too much for Draco. He regained use of his leaden limbs, quickly closing the gap between them and pulling the girl into a kiss that he hoped conveyed his feelings more than his clumsy words ever could.

Hermione stumbled backward slightly at the power and passion in Draco's kiss, his strong arms around her small waist the only thing keeping her upright. He pulled away momentarily, looking into her beautiful brown eyes with a disquieting look, full lust, desire, and something much deeper that made Hermione tremble slightly in his embrace. Her lips ached at the loss of contact with his, so she laced her fingers around the back of his pale neck and urgently pressed her lips to his, a jolt of electricity coursing through both of their bodies at the renewed touch.

Then, in a gesture of tenderness that would have rendered Hermione speechless if Draco's kisses hadn't already done so, the boy gently brushed an errant curl off of her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Now it was Hermione's turn to break their kiss to gaze into Draco's eyes, her brown eyes conveying an intoxicating mixture of shock, curiosity, lust, and an affection that made Draco's heart pound wildly within his chest.

"Hermione, I…" The words stumbled out of his mouth of their own accord, Draco having no idea what he wanted to say, or any idea how to finish his sentence in a fashion that would not have her running for cover. Mercifully, she whispered in that husky voice that caused all blood in his body to rush somewhere other than his brain, keeping him from thinking any more "Draco, no talking, I just need you. Now." At hearing his name escape her full lips in company with such lustful words, he grabbed her under that perfectly round arse of hers and pressed her up against the stone wall, his body flush with hers as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and kissed him deeper still.

Of their own volition, his hands began to wander all over her torso, lingering deliciously over her breasts, eliciting moans of pleasure that Draco felt more than heard, his erection growing at the sensation of her body responding to his touch. "Oh Gods, don't stop" Hermione whispered breathlessly, fumbling awkwardly with Draco's belt buckle, her need for him making her head spin and her knickers grow damp with desire.

Draco smirked devilishly at the brunette's struggle. "Can I help you with that, love?" he drawled, taking one of her hands in his and deftly using the other to undo his own belt buckle. Hermione gasped at the sight of the blonde's impressive hard-on. Needing no further encouragement, she took his length in her hand and stroked his cock at a pace that, for Draco, was agonizingly, tantalizingly slow.

"Oh Gods Hermione, don't stop", he murmured breathlessly. "I have no intention of stopping, unless of course, your intention is to fuck me, Draco". With that, the slender blonde roughly grabbed both of her wrists and pushed them against the wall above her head, planting hot, wet kisses on her creamy skin starting at her earlobe and blazing a trail down to her lace-covered breasts, having made quick work of removing her sweater.

In a bold gesture that left Draco impossibly harder, she vanished the rest of both of their clothing. With little more prompting from the woman in his arms, Draco positioned himself at her entrance and buried his cock in her dripping folds. Hermione's whole body shuddered as pleasure coursed through her, nails digging into the pale skin of Draco's back as she moaned his name. Draco slid in and out of her, unable to control the animalistic groans emanating from somewhere deep in his chest. At this rate, and judging by the way that the whimpers coming from Hermione were growing louder and more desperate, they both knew they wouldn't last much longer.

As he felt their orgasms approaching, Draco grasped the back of Hermione's neck and pulled her in for the most passionate kiss that the brunette had ever experienced. She held him tightly with both hands wrapped around his muscular shoulders, kissing him back in earnest as she came hard. They rode out their orgasm together, then collapsed unceremoniously in a heap on the stone floor of the tower.

Hermione conjured a blanket for them to wrap themselves in, and caused their clothes to reappear, though neither of the two seemed particularly eager to get dressed. Hermione draped herself over Draco's taut chest, finding that perfect nook in which to rest her head. Their legs tangled together instinctively, and Draco lazily traced patterns on the smooth skin of his lover's back.

Lover? Could Draco really call her that? They had only slept together twice now, but something felt different about this time. He might only be fooling himself, but he would have sworn by Salazar that before lust and hormones had taken over, when he kissed her tenderly, she returned the kiss in kind, that her lips conveyed more than simple physical desire.

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, and with his post-orgasmic haze clearing, he remembered his original intentions in meeting this gorgeous girl at the Tower. He took a deep breath, gathering all his courage, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he turned to her and said "Listen, Hermione, I need to tell you something. Actually, I meant to tell you when I first got up here, but then, well, it seems that when it comes to you, I lose control a bit."

He chanced looking into her beautiful brown eyes, and seeing only curiosity and what he thought, well hoped, was affection, he swallowed hard and continued. "Please, don't take this next bit the wrong way. The thing is, the other night, in Hogsmeade, I wanted desperately to shag you, and bloody hell, you were, no are, brilliant, and so, so, unbelievably sexy." At this, Hermione chuckled, and Draco continued nervously. "And as bloody fantastic as it would be to meet up with you and shag at every available opportunity…"

Upon hearing those words, Hermione rejoiced inwardly, Draco _did _ want to shag her! Snapping back to reality, Hermione looked up into Draco's face, seeing a nervousness in his grey eyes that could only be described as adorable. Adorable? Sodding hell, did she _really_ find Draco Malfoy adorable? He continued anxiously, "I actually, see well um, I fancy you Hermione, and not just as someone to have a quick romp with in the Room of Requirement".

He smiled, and his heart skipped a beat to see that her expression mirrored his. Before she could respond to his heartfelt confession, however, an angry voice pierced the stillness that had hung in the air. "Mione? Malfoy? What the…are you fucking kidding me?" Both Hermione and Draco froze in horror as none other than the Boy Who Sodding Lived gaped at them, jaw hanging open in disbelief but anger burning in his bright emerald eyes as he drew his wand and pointed it with obvious malicious intent at Draco's bare chest.

**Well there it is, hope you liked it. Please please please review, good or bad, I want to know what you think, and would love suggestions on where you think I should go with the story from here. If I get a bunch of reviews, I'll be much more motivated to update sooner. Thanks so much, Ms. Mollie**


	6. Chapter 6: Defending Draco

**Hullo all! I apologize profusely for how terribly long it's been since my last update, especially considering the cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter. My computer decided to have a freak out and I haven't been able to post. As always, please review, it makes writing this so much more rewarding :)**

As was his habit recently, Harry found himself searching the Marauder's Map for Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy instead of doing his Potions homework. He _knew _that Malfoy was now a Death Eater, and that Snape was his mentor in all things dark and sinister, but Ron was too wrapped up in snogging Lavender to care much, and Hermione simply did not believe him, so he had made it his mission to prove it to his clever friend once and for all. His heart caught in his throat and his hand instinctively flew to his wand on his bedside table when he saw the names of his best friend and his fiercest enemy practically overlapping one another on the Astronomy Tower.

Harry haphazardly threw on his Invisibility Cloak and ran at a full sprint from his dormitory to the Astronomy Tower, taking every staircase he met two at a time and giving a group of first years quite a scare when an unseen force pushed them aside as he failed to dodge them while they loitered in a first floor corridor. Drawing his wand as he went, Harry was gasping for air by the time he reached the top of the seemingly endless flight of stairs up to the top of the Tower. Fire burned behind Harry's eyes as he turned the corner, hearing only whispers, preparing to go to any lengths to protect Hermione from the vile Slytherin.

Shock and horror do not begin to describe the flood of emotion that hit Harry like a tsunami when his eyes finally found Hermione and Malfoy, _lying_ together, _naked _ on the stone floor of the Tower. He was silent for only a moment, trying to channel all of his anger and shock into a menacing tone, but only disdainful shock was heard in his voice as he sputtered "Mione? Malfoy? What the…are you fucking kidding me?"

The small brunette's brown eyes widened in horror as she clutched for the blanket in an attempt to cover her bare chest. She quickly positioned herself in front of Draco, effectively shielding him from her friend's very visible wrath. She could see that Harry was seething with anger, but she knew him well enough to be absolutely certain that he would never fire a curse at Draco if she stood in front of him for fear of hitting her by mistake.

Behind her, Draco blindly fumbled for his clothes with his hands; he was far too frightened to take his eyes off of Potter to look for them properly. Gods bless her, Hermione bravely stood up, now fully covered by the blanket, and though her jaw trembled slightly, she fixed her eyes on the raven-haired boy with an unwavering confidence. Her voice, however, betrayed her nerves as she attempted a halting explanation.

"Harry, stop. Listen to me..." she trailed of momentarily, unsure of how she could possibly make Harry understand what had led her, Muggle-born, Gryffindor Hermione Granger, to the point where she was lying naked with Draco Malfoy at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Harry, however, seemed to have no interest in logical explanations, regaining his voice and finding the anger that had escaped him when he first announced his presence at the top of the stairs. Wand still trained deliberately at Malfoy's chest, Harry spat, "No Hermione, you can't possibly expect me to stop and listen," he snarled, shifting his gaze from Hermione to look Malfoy dead in the eye, "I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you've hurt her, I will tear you apart with my bare hands."

By this point, Draco had found and donned all of his clothes, and stood tall next to Hermione, jaw clenched in wordless defiance. When Potter accused him of hurting Hermione, however, he was no longer able to keep his silent composure. He whipped his wand out of his pocket and pointed it just as menacingly back at the scrawny git and snarled, "Now you listen here Potter, I-" but his tirade was cut short by Hermione tenderly lacing her fingers with Draco's free hand and whispering in his ear, "Not now love, it'll only make it worse". At that moment, Draco was hit with such a wave of affection for the girl in front of him that had Harry bloody "saves the day" Potter not been threatening his life, he would have swept her into his arms and kissed her until the sun rose tomorrow. She was _holding his hand_ in her small and perfect one, and she had called him _love _ – he could have died happy. As it was, he had to settle for gently squeezing her hand and nodding to her as she expertly snatched his wand from his hand and used it to put her own clothes back on and then carefully placed it on the ground just out of Draco's reach.

Being fully clothed once again seemed to have restored the confidence that Hermione had not been feeling only moments before, and she chanced a few cautious steps towards Harry, straightening herself up and fixing her eyes pointedly on her slight but muscular friend. In the bossiest voice that she could muster, Hermione began, "Now, Harry, you will notice that I do not have my wand, and that Draco doesn't have his either. Put yours down and we'll talk about all this", nodding vaguely in Draco's direction. His mouth still agape, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Harry found himself putting his wand on the ground and tentatively pushing it aside with his foot, unable to break contact with the piercing gray eyes of the tall, slender blonde, that fell on him with a hatred that seemed to be barely contained, boiling savagely beneath the surface of his near translucent skin.

Hermione had been expecting Harry to mount a violent protest to her suggestion, so when he obeyed her request without hesitation, she was caught off guard and momentarily unsure of how to proceed. Merlin bless his cool Slytherin cunning and intellect, Draco spoke, saving Hermione from issuing a bumbling and emotional confession to Harry. Draco placed his hand reassuringly on the small of Hermione's back, eyes softening slightly as he did so.

Then, with all the Pureblood pomp and circumstance that he had learned from his elegant mother, Draco drawled, "Look Potter, whatever you think happened up here, whatever unforgivable sins you think were committed, I assure you that they were not. I have never, and would never, do anything to harm Hermione, I give you my word. Now, I know that my word means about as much to you as a house elf means to my father, so I will give you more than that. I will leave you my wand, which, if you possess any of the honor and integrity that you Gryffindors hold so dear, you will owl to me as soon as you come down from this Tower. If you do not do so, I swear to Salazar that you will dearly regret it." Draco felt Hermione tense at that last bit, but the Malfoy in him could not pass up the chance to belittle Harry Potter, even in such a precarious situation.

Harry stayed silent, eyes narrowed, sensing that Malfoy's little speech was not quite over, but his mind raced, thinking of a thousand biting retorts and contemplating where exactly Hermione's wand was, and if she would be able to reach it in time to stop him from lunging to where his wand lay useless and hexing Malfoy's smug face clean off his head.

Proving Harry right, Draco continued, each word dripping with more self-importance than the last. "I will also be leaving with Hermione, and for your sake, and hers, I request that you do not follow us. As you two are friends, I'm sure that she will choose to explain this to you when she sees fit and feels ready. Out of respect for her feelings, you also shouldn't pester her about it until she comes to you. Please."

Now it was Hermione's turn to stare, slack-jawed, at Draco. Despite his arrogant tone, she was truly touched by his jumping to defend her, and the grand gesture of leaving his wand with Harry. As a proud, Pureblood wizard, he valued his wand above all else; he may as well have left his arm or leg in the Gryffindor's custody. But most of all, she was struck dumb by his protectiveness, and at how carefully he had chosen his words, which she knew was all for her. If it were only up to him, Draco would be dueling Harry right now, the two hurling countless foul and evil curses at each other, but for her, he had revealed to Harry that he cared about Hermione's _feelings_ and he had bloody well said please! Draco Malfoy had said _ please _to Harry Potter. She was sure that somewhere in the Muggle world, pigs were flying. Despite the gravity of their current situation, Hermione could not help but be elated by how wonderful and caring Draco was turning out to be, and at how gracefully he was handling this mess.

Unfortunately, Harry did not seem to possess the same level of self-control and poise that Draco did, and he started shouting at the top of his lungs. "Your wand? What the bloody hell do I want with your wand Malfoy? Fuck you. Out of respect for Hermione's feelings? Ha! You don't know shit about Hermione or her feelings! And over my dead body are you leaving this tower with her while I stand here and wait and then owl you your sodding wand like a bloody servant.". Harry spat out each word menacingly, as if each syllable were a vile poison that he had to expel from his body.

Acting instinctively, Hermione ripped her wand out of her back pocket, where it had remained cleverly hidden until now, pointed it squarely at Harry. "Petrificus totalus!", she exclaimed, shocked at her lack of hesitation in casting the spell on her closest friend. With much more conviction than she felt considering the wave of guilt that now washed over her at what she had done, the brunette grabbed Draco by the hand and led him past Harry's prone and motionless form, pausing at the top of the stairs. "Wait a second, I have to say _ something _to him". Draco, still reeling at what he had just witnessed, could only nod and issue a non-committal grunt.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, really I am. I promise none of this is what you think, and I _will _be back very very soon, I will", Hermione blurted out, a poor excuse for a temporary apology and explanation for the terrible thing she had just done to someone who had always been so good to her. She then rushed back to Draco, taking his hand once again and pulling him down the steps, stopping only when they had reached a secluded spot at the bottom of the staircase. She then buried her head in Draco's chest, pulling him impossibly close to her, their bodies melting together like old familiar lovers. The tall boy then wrapped his arms around the beautiful woman before him, tangling his long fingers in her curls delicately, knowing that to speak now would ruin this beautiful and broken moment.

They stood like that for a while, silently appreciating the person held in their arms, their breathing becoming slow and synchronized. Hermione was the first to speak. Picking her head up off of Draco's chest reluctantly, she looked adoringly into his beautiful gray eyes and whispered, "Thank you. Thank you so much, for that. For everything. You were brilliant. I couldn't have done that, any of that, without you." Draco returned the affection in her gaze and replied, "Yes you could have. You are Hermione Jean Granger, the cleverest, most beautiful, most perfect witch in the world. You can do anything." Real honesty evident in every word, he punctuated each adjective with a gentle kiss to her forehead and to each of her lovely freckled cheeks.

For what felt like the millionth time in the past hour, Hermione was astounded by Draco Malfoy. How did he know her middle name? How could he, the most handsome and intelligent wizard in their year, think all of those lovely things about her? The thing was, she knew he meant them. He really thought that bookish, bushy-haired, Hermione was perfect. Even a Slytherin couldn't fake the candid truth she heard in his silky voice. She kissed his lips reverently, in awe of how wrong she had been about this amazing man.

As Draco kissed her back fervently, he felt a familiar chill creep up his spine. A paralyzing sense of guilt and dread began to build in the pit of his stomach when he remembered what had just happened. He had driven this beautiful, kind, caring person to hex her best friend, something that she never would have done had she not felt that she had to protect him. He should have known that this was too good to be true. A Malfoy, a Death Eater, someone charged by Voldemort himself to murder the greatest wizard of all time, did not deserve this kind of happiness, did not deserve the earnest affections of someone as wholesome and lovely and brilliant as Hermione Granger. He deserved nothing but ugliness and cold, for up to now, that was all he had ever put into the world.

His heart broke at this realization, and he pulled away from her lips, reluctant and growing more miserable by the second. After everything he put her through, he couldn't just tell her now, he knew it would crush her, given everything that he had just done and said to her, everything she had just done for him. The first thing he had to do was get her to fix things with Potter. Yes, that was the most important, then he would explain everything, how she couldn't ruin her friendship with Potter on his account, how he could not be with her because he would only bring darkness into her life. Swallowing his grief, he tucked a curl behind her ear in what now felt like a familiar gesture and murmured, "Hermione, darling, you have to go talk to Harry. I've got to go. Someone could spot us. Meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight at 9:00, we'll figure this mess out, alright?"

Aching at the loss of contact with his perfect lips, Hermione looked up at Draco and could only nod. She could have stayed under that staircase kissing him for the rest of her life, but she knew that he was right. She had to speak to Harry, to explain everything, to keep him from jumping to terrible conclusions about her and more importantly, about her and Draco. She at least owed him that. He was her best friend, after all. With one last soft kiss, she turned from Draco and started to climb the steps back up to the Astronomy Tower, heart growing heavier with every step, feeling those arresting gray eyes staring longingly at her as she disappeared up the staircase.

**Sensitive and honorable Draco? Hermione hexes Harry? Let me know what you think...I have a few more chapters ready to post but I'd love to tweak them before I put them up based on y'alls feedback. Cheers!**


	7. Chapter 7: Hostile Harry

**Here's the next chapter, thanks to everyone who reviewed, keep 'em comin' :)**

For the second time that day, Hermione climbed what seemed like a thousand steps up to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Tears filled her eyes when she saw Harry in a heap on the ground, a shocked and hurt expression fixed on his handsome face. As much as it pained her, she thought it was best to get out all that she had to say before she lifted the spell, for fear of Harry running off to find Draco and hurt him, as she was sure his intentions were when he came up to the Astronomy Tower in the first place.

She began slowly, wanting to choose her words carefully and deliberately; she did not want Harry to be any more angry than he already was, nor did she want to incite violence between he and Draco. She wanted to make him understand that Draco was not the horrible person that Harry presumed him to be, and that he had not, in any way, taken advantage of her.

"Harry, first of all, I'm terribly sorry about casting that spell on you, but I am not going to lift it until after I've said what I need to say, what I need you to hear, because I don't want you to jump to conclusions and run off and do something rash". Hermione breathed deeply, wringing her hands, knowing that her next words were of the utmost importance. "I need you to know that Draco did not, in any way, force himself on me, or take advantage of me, or do anything that I did not want him to. You see, he and I have been, well, umm...sort of seeing each other or something since the night of the first Hogsmeade visit. The reason I disappeared from The Three Broomsticks is because I was with him".

Hermione chanced a glance at the immobile Harry, and despite his face being magically frozen, she swore she could see a flash of protest in Harry's bright green eyes. "And he's not using me, which I know is what you're thinking now that you know that he didn't take advantage of me. I think it's obvious isn't it – that he really cares about me. And I care about him as well. I don't know exactly what happens now, with me and him, or me and you, but I needed you to know all that. And it's ok if you're cross with me for the rest of eternity for keeping it from you, but I was scared of what you'd say and do. And I don't ever expect you to forgive me for hexing you, but I didn't want you to hurt Draco. You'll always be my best friend Harry, no matter what happens."

Hermione then pulled out her wand and muttered the counter-curse to unbind Harry, and he slumped to the ground for an instant before stiffly getting to his feet and meeting Hermione's worried eyes with a steeled and impassive expression. "Hermione, I refuse to try to understand how you could possibly care for someone who has done the things that Malfoy has done, to me, to you, to _Ron", _whenHarry emphasized their ginger friend's name, Hermione was too ashamed to hold her friend's gaze any longer. She knew, despite his relationship with Lavender, that if Ron were to find out about Draco, he would be absolutely crushed. "Harry _please_," she begged, tears rushing to her eyes. "I'm not going to tell him, Hermione. I wouldn't hurt him like that, like you would, being with Malfoy. He's my best friend".

The resolve in Harry's voice nearly undid her as tears now trailed freely down Hermione's cheeks, leaving two glistening paths through her dusting of freckles. "Harry I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, please, please, I can't stand the thought of you, of Ron, hurting because of me", she sobbed, unable to hold back her grief and regret any longer, and broke down in front of him, collapsing to her knees in despair.

Despite his anger at everything she had done, Harry could not bear to see Hermione cry, to see his normally composed and collected friend fall apart this way. He pulled her to him took her hand gently, looking at her with all of the love he felt for her, that preceded and would always overcome the disappointment and hurt he was feeling. "I know Hermione, I know. For now, I promise I won't tell Ron. But you have to promise me that you'll be smart, and be careful, I still don't fucking trust him. He's still a Slytherin and a Malfoy, whether or not you believe me about him being a Death Eater".

Hermione was overwhelmed at the effort that Harry was making on her behalf in the same way that she had been taken aback by Draco's actions when Harry had found them together. She could tell by the tone of his voice that Harry was still terribly upset, and that he was deeply concerned about her being involved with Malfoy, but he was making a valiant attempt at being tolerant and understanding. She hugged him tightly, and remembering their first year, looked at him with all the love and admiration in her heart and said, "Thank you. You really are a great wizard Harry".

Momentarily lost in reminiscence, Harry smiled weakly at Hermione's gesture of reconciliation. He knew that she never did anything rash, and that if she truly believed that Malfoy wasn't a foul, loathsome cockroach, as she had so eloquently put it once before, maybe he needed to re-examine his perspective on the Slytherin. On the other hand, his instincts, which had served him so well in the past, still told him to be wary of his long-time rival. The hardest part, he knew, would be not telling Ron. He had never, apart from their brief spat during fourth year, kept anything from Ron, and Ron never kept anything from Harry, not even the intimate details of his summer shag-fest with Hermione, though Harry had begged to be kept in the dark on that particular subject.

"Hermione, we'd better go, Ron will be wondering where we've both got to", Harry remarked, picking up his and Malfoy's wands and seeing a twofold pang of guilt flash across Hermione's pretty face. "Oh, right, we should, we've got Slughorn's essay to write by tomorrow", she replied matter-of-factly, if a bit shakily. At that, Harry smiled in spite of himself. It was comforting to know, after everything that had happened in the past few hours, that even a Hermione who shagged Draco Malfoy was never far from fretting about schoolwork.

The walk back to Gryffindor Tower seemed mercifully short, as the pair ran into Seamus and Dean soon after they climbed down the staircase. The boys fell into easy Quidditch banter, with Harry excusing himself to stop by the owlery before heading to the dormitories. Hermione was finally starting to relax and forget the mess that was her life as she and her two friends talked about, of all things, boys. Ever since Seamus and Dean came out as a couple, she chatted to them about boys nearly as much as she did to Ginny. Feeling a bit bold for the first time in a rather long while, she dared to pose the question, "Speaking of fit blokes, yes or no, would you shag Draco Malfoy?"

"Oh Gods yes!" gushed Seamus, "Of course, he's a right foul git, and nothing compared to my darling Mr. Thomas, but I've heard from lads and ladies alike that he is positively brilliant in bed". Dean, if not for his complexion, would have been blushing a crimson to rival the Gryffindor House banner. "Erm, thanks love", he muttered as he squeezed Seamus's hand, "and yeah, I've heard that too, but he's too skinny for me". It was a well known fact that Dean liked blokes with a bit of meat on their bones, like Seamus, of course, or Ron, who Dean admitted on having a crush on until third year, a fact which Seamus delighted in reminding Ron, and which caused Ron's cheeks to blush to match his fiery red hair. Hermione giggled unselfconsciously, something she felt like she hadn't done in years, or truthfully, since this afternoon.

All the color drained from her face and her laughter caught in her throat, however, when she stepped through the portrait hole to see Ron and Lavender sitting together on the sofa in front of the fireplace. It wasn't that Ron was with Lavender, she had long gotten over feeling jealous when she saw the couple, it was that she could not look at him without thinking of everything that Harry now knew that Ron didn't. Although she and Ron didn't share every little thing like he and Harry did, the two were still incredibly close and it felt like the most monstrous betrayal imaginable that she was keeping such an enormous secret from him, especially one that she knew would upset him so very, very much.

Dean and Seamus looked at Hermione with concerned expressions as she stopped short and began to look exceedingly distraught. "You alright, Hermione?", Dean asked quietly, sensing that maybe her answer was something that shouldn't be overheard by Ron and his sweet, if a bit vague, blonde companion. "Yeah, fine," she answered, a bit too abruptly to be believable, "just remembering how much work I have to get done by tomorrow". Not fully convinced but seeing that they would not get anything more out of her, the two boys said their goodbyes and walked up to the sixth year boys dormitory hand in hand.

Hermione did her best to simply nod in Ron and Lavender's direction and continue up to her own dormitory to climb into her four-poster, draw the curtains, and die of guilt and shame, but Fate seemed to have other plans for her. "Oi, 'Mione!" Ron called cheerily as Hermione's heart sank into the soles of her shoes. "What is it Ronald?" she replied with thinly veiled irritation, "I'm headed upstairs to finish my Potions essay."

"Brilliant!", Lavender replied in an annoyingly chipper voice, "We were just about to start ours as well. The three of us should work together, get it done faster." She smiled sweetly at Hermione, a gesture that she knew took considerable effort for the busty blonde. Ever since she had found out from Parvati who was told by Dean who had heard from a drunken Harry that Ron and Hermione had shagged, she was not Hermione's biggest fan, although the two girls put on a fairly convincing act for Ron's benefit. She smiled back half-heartedly, remarked that she needed to go get her books and parchment, and headed up the stairs double-quick.

As she gathered her supplies, a sense of foreboding filled her up; it was the same feeling she got when she watched Muggle horror movies with her family, only a million times worse because there was no pause button on her wrecked life, no cousin Marcus hiding in the closet waiting to scare her. This was real, and she had to go back down the stairs and face them, the sickening lovebirds.

Luckily for Hermione, she was a practiced hand at finishing schoolwork quickly, and she was able to complete her essay with relative ease, helping Ron and Lavender when they needed it, answering what seemed like 500 ridiculous questions from Lavender about the difference between lacewing flies and dragonflies, something that they had learned from Professor Snape in first year. She cast a drying spell on her parchment so as not to smear the ink, rolled it up, and told Ron and Lavender that she needed to go to the library to check something for Advanced Arithmancy. Being that no other sixth year took the class, and that Lavender had been biting her lip and stealing lustful glances at an increasingly distracted Ron for the last hour, she knew she was safe in assuming that her two companions would have no interest in following her.

"Ron, have you seen Harry lately?", Hermione asked as she gathered her things. Ron's brow furrowed at the question, "No, I haven't seen him since just after lunch. Bit odd really. But then again, he has been a bit off lately, really distracted an' all that". Hermione nodded in agreement, silently having a miniature panic attack at the thought of where Harry might be, and that he may have gone to follow Draco when he left her, Dean, and Seamus rather than actually going to the owlery.

Realizing it was a quarter to nine, she rushed to the Room of Requirement, eager to find Draco and reassure herself that he was alright, hoping with everything she had that nothing horrible had happened to him because of her. With every step, Hermione grew more anxious, the short walk seeming unfathomably long, a feeling that was becoming distressingly familiar to her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she paused as she waited for the door to appear, biting her lip and shifting her weight from foot to foot nervously.

As she stepped through the door, nothing could have prepared her for the awful sight in front of her. There, crumpled pitifully on the floor, sat Draco, eyes reddened, nose and shirt-front bloodied, soft sobs choking out of him as his whole body shook with the effort of stifling his tears. "Oh no," Hermione whispered, dropping her bag and quickly closing the distance between them, kneeling in front of the defeated blonde and carefully wiping away a tear that had been painting a satly trail down his pale cheek. Hermione felt as if her heart was being ripped into a thousand pieces, knowing that she alone was the reason that this beautiful man was sitting on this cold stone floor, body beaten and spirit broken.

**Hope you liked it, I know the bit with Seamus and Dean was random, but I wanted to add some humor, the story is taking kind of a heavy turn. Pretty pretty please review with critiques and suggestions! **


	8. Chapter 8: Doubtful Draco

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, you guys make my day. Here's the next chapter, hope you like it. **

After he parted ways with Hermione, Seamus, and Dean, Harry headed to the owlery. However, he could not bring himself to simply climb the stairs and send Malfoy his wand. His head still reeling from everything that Hermione had told him, he seemed incapable of doing anything but pacing back and forth at the bottom of the staircase and muttering to himself in half-coherent, half-formed sentences.

Compulsively pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and running his fingers through his messy hair in a fashion that Sirius would have told him reminded him so much of his father, Harry could not keep himself from mumbling, "Draco sodding Malfoy...seriously Hermione?...the bloody hell is she thinking...kill the bastard if he ever...since Hogsmeade?...fucking petrificus totalus...owl him his wand...bloody wanker...cares about her my arse...Death Eater son of a bitch" and all manner of similarly angry and brooding sentiments.

Still, he had to admit that Malfoy leaving his wand on the ground up at the Astronomy Tower was an impressive gesture, even if he didn't believe for a second that Malfoy's intentions were anything but malicious. Problem was, he couldn't think of anything to do with the wand other than send it back to the smug, Slytherin prick. Harry certainly had no use for it; it made him feel slimy just to have it in his possession. Not to mention how much trouble he'd get in if he were caught with another student's wand. Malfoy's or not, it was no good for him to keep the wand.

Just as Harry was turning to head up the stairs, he heard footsteps approaching and whirled around to face whomever was coming, unintentionally drawing Malfoy's wand out of his pocket instead of his own. Then, much to Harry's dismay, the blonde bastard in question rounded the corner and drawled in that all-too-familiar tone that set Harry's teeth on edge, "Potter." Harry hated nothing more than the sound of his name on those thin lips that curled up into a sneer that made Draco look so like his despicable father.

Trying to match the malevolence in Malfoy's expression, Harry spat, "I suppose you'll be wanting this back then, Malfoy." Harry tossed the wand carelessly in the direction of the other boy, simultaneously drawing his wand and pointing it squarely at Malfoy. "Listen Potter, you can just calm down with all these menacing stares and the Gryffindor bravado shite," Draco quipped, taking a step towards Harry, "I have no intention of cursing you, hexing you, or any such thing that you seem certain that I'll do, I just came to get my wand because I had a feeling you wouldn't be man enough to actually send it to me, so I wanted to fetch it myself."

Draco chanced another step toward Harry, who was threateningly clenching and unclenching the fist not holding his wand. He slowly began to lower it, and as he did so, Draco relaxed slightly. In that moment, Harry launched himself at Draco, punching him hard in the nose, causing a sickening crunch of bone followed by a river of blood that soon covered Draco's nose and mouth and began to stain his carefully pressed shirt. "Malfoy, you filthy, slimy son of a bitch – know this – the only reason that a bloody nose is your most grievous injury at the moment is that Hermione was there to protect you earlier, and the only reason that will remain the case is that I made a promise to her that I wouldn't hurt you". Much to Harry's surprise, Draco did not run away, or fight back, or even protest as Harry shouted at him.

While he found this strangely out of character, it did not do anything to quell his anger, so he continued, "You know you don't deserve her, right? She is clever, kind, and beautiful, and you are a wretched, arrogant bastard. And I know you're a fucking Death Eater, and as soon as I can prove it to her, Hermione will be out from under whatever spell you seem to have her under, you disgusting excuse for a wizard."

Again, Harry was taken aback by Draco's response. Instead of casting a spell at him, or hitting him back, or even firing back a trademark bile-filled insult, all of which he was fully prepared for, the blonde looked at him with what Harry could have sworn was guilt – he wore an expression that seemed to convey that he almost agreed with the terrible things Harry had said. Then, he slowly picked up his wand, nodded at Harry, and walked away, leaving the Gryffindor just as shocked, if not quite as angry and horrified, as he had been when he first saw Hermione with Draco earlier that afternoon.

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As soon as Draco was out of Potter's earshot, he broke into a run and headed in the direction of the Room of Requirement, the only place in the castle where he felt sure that he would be completely alone. Dark thoughts consumed Draco's mind as he raced through the corridors. _Potter is right_, he lamented, _I am a pathetic excuse for a wizard, and no matter how much I care for her, I will never deserve her love or affection, or even her respect. She is on the right side, the good side, _Dumbledore's_ side, _he thought woefully_, and I am the fucking _Death Eater_ charged by the Dark Lord himself to kill him_. Draco burst through the secret door of the Room, tears welling in his eyes, and collapsed unceremoniously onto the floor.

Sitting there in a heap on the floor, he began to weep in earnest, feeling more and more worthless with each passing minute, hoping to Salazar that Hermione had come to her senses and wouldn't show. The thought of the look on her face when she saw him like this, when he told her the truth, when she knew what he really was, proved to be almost more than he could bear. In spite of his utter despair, Draco could not bring himself to get up; it seemed that all he was capable of doing was crying like a child on the bloody floor. _Some proud fucking Slytherin you turned out to be_, he thought self-deprecatingly.

Just then, he heard the door creak open. Filled simultaneously with joy and dread, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Hermione standing in front of him, beautiful as ever as worried stitched her brow momentarily before she rushed to Draco's side, tenderly wrapping one arm around him as she wiped a tear from his cheek with the other. They sat there silently for a while, Hermione's presence calming Draco considerably, his breathing gradually becoming slower and more even, his tears stopping as she quietly cast spells to get rid of the blood and heal his broken nose.

When he was cleaned up and no longer crying, Hermione gingerly pulled him off the floor and led him to a large, overstuffed sofa in front of a warm fireplace and wrapped a blanket around him. Draco, who had never really been cared for by anyone other than house elves, was overwhelmed by her tenderness and concern for him. Hermione took his hand, and with genuine and deep concern in her eyes, she said, "Draco, love, tell me what happened. Did Harry do this to you?" Draco nodded weakly, and before he continued, noticed a frighteningly dark flash of anger play across Hermione's pretty features.

"He hit me Hermione, but don't be angry with him. I deserved it." Anger faded to concern and she replied, "What do you mean deserved it? Did you hurt him? Did you two fight? How is it that you have your wand back?" She now handed it back to him, having plucked it off the ground just before taking him to the couch they now sat on. The warmth of the fire giving him some of his strength and confidence back, Draco straightened up a bit and said, "No, we didn't fight exactly. I went to the owlery to get my wand from him because I didn't think he'd actually send it to me, but I figured he'd be there, and he was, pacing at the bottom of the stairs and muttering to himself like a right daft git."

Hermione rolled her eyes slightly at Draco's inability to pass up a chance to insult her friend, but glad that he was gaining his wits back, kept quiet and nodded for him to continue. "So then I showed myself and he started glaring and pointing his wand at me, like earlier, so I told him he needn't worry about me hexing him or anything, that I had just come for my wand because I thought he was too much of a coward to actually owl it to me. And then the scrawny little bastard sucker punched me."

"Well that doesn't seem like you deserved it at all!", Hermione exclaimed indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Granted, you could have been more polite, but Harry should not have hit you." Draco marveled at her steadfastness, at how after so little time she was so fiercely defending him against her best friend. He smiled broadly at her before remembering that he did in fact, deserve Potter's hitting him, and the subsequent insults, and every other bad thing that could ever happen to a person because he, unlike Hermione, was not a good person.

His lip began to tremble as words now spilled out of him freely, out of his control, jumping straight from his heart to his mouth, bypassing his brain entirely. "But I did deserve it Hermione! I deserved anything that he would have done to me. I am all the things he said - a bastard and a malicious arsehole, a pathetic excuse for a wizard...and most of all he was right about the fact that I don't deserve you. Hermione, you are the model of everything wonderful and good about the world; I'll only hurt you and bring darkness into your life."

Draco savagely dug his fingernails into his scalp as he revealed himself to her, grief and guilt and regret contorting his handsome face into an ugly grimace, tears welling in his slate gray eyes as he spoke. Hermione threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder, finding the place that made her feel safe and warm and at home, melting into him as she reassured him.

"No Draco, no. Harry was wrong, he doesn't know you like I do. You are none of those things. You are as brave and kind a wizard as I have ever known, you defended me today, protected me, proved that you cared about me in a way that no one ever has." She looked up at him, eyes full of affection and brimming with tears. "And the darkness is not in you, it is around you. You are _not_ your father Draco, you _are_ good, and I know you would never do anything to hurt me."

Once again Draco was rendered speechless by how much Hermione believed in him. No one had ever had anything resembling faith in him before, no one had ever thought of him as kind or brave or good, and _everyone_ thought that he was just like his father – cunning and cruel and ruthless. Only Hermione, astonishing, perfect, Hermione, saw him for more than his House and family name. Or rather, she made him into more than those things. With Hermione, he was a better man than he ever thought that he could be.

Draco looked at Hermione, an exhilarating and paralyzing realization bursting through his subconscious – he had known it on some level for a while, but he had failed to recognize it because he had never known the feeling before – he was in love with her. Hearing her say those things about him, looking into her eyes, he felt like he was seeing her - seeing everything - for the first time. Draco knew that from now on, things would be different. He would be different. Hermione would help him to find a way out of his father's house, where the Dark Lord was plotting to destroy their world, help him to find a way to save his mother, find a way out of the unimaginable task that evil wizard had given him. Together, they would find a way.

**Hope y'all liked it, that it wasn't too dramatic or cheesy. As per usual, please let me know what you think. This is the last of the chapters I have written as of right now, so aside from the fact that I think Draco and Hermione both deserve some lovin' after everything I've put them through in the past few chapters, I'd love to hear what you think should happen next. Cheers, Ms. Mollie :)**


	9. Chapter 9: Revisiting the Room

**Hey all! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, you guys are amazing! So here's the next chapter, I'm not feeling super confident about it, so please review and let me know what you think, good or bad. **

Hermione shifted on the couch so that she could look at Draco properly, needing him to see in her eyes that she meant everything that she had said to him. She really believed those things, believed that Draco was good and kind and worlds away from anything like his horrible father. Heart pounding in her chest like a thousand bass drums, she squeezed his hand firmly between her own. "Draco, you really are the most wonderful man that I have ever known, and I think, or well, I know rather, that I'm falling for you, and if you're up for it, I think we should make a go of it, you and me, Harry and anyone else's disapproval be damned."

At those words, Draco thought his heart would explode, her candor and slightly crass language endearing her to him even more. As was happening more and more lately under the influence of this wonderful woman, Draco, in a very un-Slytherin manner, felt compelled to bare his soul, to share his feelings. _If my bloody father could see me now, _he mused darkly, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind as he kissed Hermione's hands and said, "Hermione, my darling, I love you, and nothing would make me happier than to be with you." He saw her eyes light up, and the familiar old sense of dread started to fill him up again. He had to tell her now, or he would lose his nerve and never be honest with her. He took a deep breath; unable to meet her eyes, he began, "But listen, love, I have to tell you something before I start remembering what happened the last time we were in here together and I can't help myself...again." Recalling the last time they were in here together, Hermione laughed huskily and bit her lip in a way that nearly drove Draco mad with desire. But this time, unlike at the Tower, Draco was determined not to let his hormones get the best of him.

Forcing thoughts of Moaning Myrtle into his head to keep his focus off of the gorgeous girl in front of him and the king-sized bed that had appeared in the corner of the room behind them, Draco kept going. "I know you said before that you think I'm kind and good and not my father, and as brilliant as you are, you're wrong about that." Hermione frowned darkly at Draco, opening her mouth to protest, but he continued, still not meeting the cross and puzzled expression in her eyes. "I want to be all those things you said I was, and now that I've got you, I want it more than ever. I want to be strong and brave and to make you as proud to have me as I am to have you."

He swallowed hard, his heart catching in his throat as he steeled himself for Hermione's reaction to what he was about to tell her, certain that she would run out of the Room and never speak to him again. He sped through the next bit, knowing that if he paused even for a second, he would break down into tears once again. "But I'm weak, I'm a coward. My family, with the exception of my mother, are the worst people in the world. If I were a better man, I'd stand up to them, especially my father and my Aunt Bella. But I'm not. They're _helping_ Voldemort. _I'm _helping Voldemort. The Dark Lord is living at the Manor, gathering followers and getting stronger every day. And he's given me a task, a horrible, evil job to do. He wants me to kill Dumbledore, and if I don't do it, he'll kill me and my family."

As he spoke, tears began to stream down his face, silently expressing his grief at the person that he had become, his despair at what this knowledge would do to the girl he loved. Much to his surprise, Hermione did not curse him, hit him, or run away. For what seemed like an eternity, she simply stared at him, beautiful brown eyes wide with shock, and brimming with tears.

The weight of everything Draco had just confessed to her hit Hermione like a train, plowing through the center of that which she thought she was sure, and turning her world upside down. Voldemort was at Malfoy Manor, getting stronger and gaining supporters, and Draco, _ her _Draco, was being forced to kill Dumbledore, their side's best chance of defeating the dark wizard.

A large part of her refused to believe it, but a larger part, the logical, discerning part that made her the clever witch she was, knew it made too much sense, that Draco would not have lied about something like this, that his confession fit too well into what Harry had been saying all along. Still, she needed to see proof. Draco seemed not to have the resolve to stop her as gently, slowly she rolled up Draco's sleeve to reveal the Mark, writhing sickeningly on his pale skin. She marveled at the fact that she hadn't seen it before, after Hogsmeade or at the Tower. With a morbid sense of appreciation she discerned that he must have used a very strong charm to have hidden such such powerful, dark, magic from her.

Draco watched her heart sink as she uncovered the physical evidence of his weakness and shame, and his heart sank with it. This was the end, he knew it. As wonderful as she was, Draco could not expect her to stay, to want to be with him, now that she knew what he really was. He looked into her eyes apprehensively, but instead of fear, anger, and disgust, which is what he had expected to find, he saw only love in her beautiful brown eyes, and something akin to pity.

"Draco, oh Merlin, you really are daft." And then she smiled. Draco was positively floored. She was teasing him, grinning impishly. Hermione Granger truly was a witch unlike any other. "You're scared, obviously. You think I'm going to run away from this, from you? I'm not going anywhere. I love you, and we'll figure this out together. We'll work it out, how to save your mum, how to get you out of that vile mansion, how to keep you from this awful thing that Voldemort has given you to do. You and me, together, we'll find a way." She looked at him with a determination that made him all of his fear and doubt fade away. He knew that she meant every word, that somehow, she would help him out of the mess that his life had become.

Despite the shock and very real fear that had gripped and frozen her insides when she first saw the Mark on Draco's arm, she no longer felt angry and afraid. She simply felt protective. She knew that protecting Draco, helping him sort this all out, was something she had to do; it was the only thing that seemed important anymore. Just as Dumbledore had always taught them, love was always more powerful than any darkness. She loved Draco, and next to that, all the other problems she'd thought she had seemed wholly insignificant.

With that realization, her spirits lifted and she caught sight of the black silk sheets that held so many vivid and delightful memories. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she turned to face the handsome man next to her. "Draco," she sighed, barely louder than a whisper, "I know this has been just about the worst day either of us could have imagined, and if you just want to go back to the dungeons and go to sleep, I wouldn't blame you."

"But," she smirked, repositioning herself so that she was straddling his waist, her hands planted firmly on his chest, "the Room has seen fit to reprise the appearance of a certain satin-covered bed, and in my humble opinion, it would be an insult to its magic if we didn't at least pay that bed a visit." She then bent down slowly, leaving a hot, wet, trail of playful bites and sultry kisses from the base of his neck to his earlobe, eliciting an appreciative moan from somewhere deep inside Draco's chest. He cupped her chin lightly in his hand, leading her lips to his, capturing them in a kiss that took Hermione's breath away, vanishing every semblance of coherent thought from her mind. She clutched at his hair with a quiet desperation, every ounce of her needing him with a passion unlike any she had felt when their lips had met before this exquisite moment.

Draco gracefully wrapped his arms around her and easily carried her from the fireside couch to the bed, which, astonishingly, still seemed to carry the heavy, delicious scent of the last time they had been there together. Draco put Hermione down gently, worshiping every inch of her divine form with soft kisses and caresses. Hermione's skin seeming to come alive beneath his touch, every bit of her tingling at the sensation of Draco's lips and hands on her.

The slender blonde then slowly unbuttoned his shirt, a devilish smirk playing across his handsome face as he did so. She then returned the look and gesture in kind, pulling her sweater over her head and letting it slip lazily out of her grip and onto the floor. Draco's gaze wandered appreciatively over Hermione's lovely form, thinking to himself that no matter how many times he saw it, he would never cease being astonished by how truly beautiful she was, from her chestnut curls all the way to her pretty painted toes.

Pushing Draco's shirt from his shoulders and giggling playfully, Hermione jolted Draco back to reality. Walking his fingers seductively from her collarbone to her navel, trailing tantalizingly over her breasts, Draco unbuttoned Hermione's jeans and slid them down her legs. She eagerly wriggled out of them and arched up into Draco's touch as he traced the lace flowers on her panties with his fingers, clutching at the sheets for dear life when he repeated the gesture with his tongue.

After momentarily seeing stars, she regained proper vision and pulled Draco into a smoldering kiss as she unbuckled his belt with considerably more ease than the last time she had attempted the task, letting Draco do the work of getting his trousers off. With her love now clad only in dark green boxer briefs, it was Hermione's turn to stare with lustful appreciation at the slender, muscular form hovering over her, emitting a heat that left her whole body burning with desire, hardening her nipples and dampening her knickers.

Craving as much contact as humanly possible, Hermione wrapped her arms firmly around Draco's waist and pulled him down on top of her, the weight of his body forcing a sigh of pleasure from her full, pink lips. Draco rolled his hips slowly, grinding his erection pleasurably against Hermione, causing her legs, of their own volition, to take the place of her arms around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to her so that neither could say with much authority where their own body ended ended and their lover's began. Draco kissed her deeply, hungrily exploring his lover's mouth as he reveled in the feeling of the perfect woman underneath him.

Pulling away to catch her breath, Hermione whispered in Draco's ear. "Make love to me", she pleaded breathlessly. Her words hit Draco like a bolt of lightning. He kissed her once more, then removed Hermione's black lace bra and panties with his teeth, the last barrier between him and the most exquisite body he had ever laid eyes on. Hermione's eyes shut and she whimpered with pleasure as his tongue traced the bud of her nipples and his hand slipped between her thighs to caress her aching folds. "Hermione Jean Granger," he said softly, "With everything that I have, with all that I am, I love you." Hermione, smilingly lovingly at him, replied, "And I you, Draco, but I may just die of lustful longing if you don't make love to me right sodding now."

Needing no further prompting, Draco slid into her, causing them both to gasp sharply with pleasure. They moved in a slow rhythm together, hands and tongues roaming eagerly over any skin they could reach. This time, they both knew, was different. There was no sense of urgency, no overwhelming need to devour each other lustfully, only a love that neither had ever known, and a desire to remain this way, lost in each other, forever.

Hermione brought her legs up, pressing her heels into the small of Draco's back, pushing him deeper into her. Hermione cried out in ecstasy as he thrust into her sweet spot, the sound of his lover bringing his ever closer to climax, a feral growl escaping from his throat as he kissed her roughly. He moved faster, Hermione bucking beneath him, teetering on the edge of orgasm. She broke their kiss to look up into his eyes, and seeing the storm raging in those slate gray orbs was too much for her to bear. Her back arching up off the bed, she tightened around him as she cried out his name, sweet release flushing her face and chest pink. At the sound of Hermione's rapturous cry, Draco lost control, clutching at Hermione, drawing her closer to him as they came together.

After the longest, most intense orgasm either of them had ever experienced, they folded onto each other, completely spent and satiated. Both still glistening with sweat, Draco rested his head on Hermione's bare chest, listening to her heart beat, needing to be reassured that this was all real, that she was not a day dream concocted by his troubled mind to distract from the desperation of his life. But she was real, her soft skin warm beneath his cheek, more perfect than any dream.

After lying together a while, Hermione suddenly jolted upright. "Oh shit, Ron!". Draco, irritated at the loss of warmth beside him and the mention of the Weasel while he was naked in bed with Hermione, remarked, "Um, pardon me love, but I'm called _Draco, _and bear no resemblance to that ginger oaf". Hermione wrinkled her nose at him. "Ha ha ha. Very funny you git. I mean, I've just remembered that I told Ronald and his bimbo girlfriend that I was going to the library. If I'm not back soon, he and Harry will come looking for me. So, as much as I would love nothing more than to stay in bed with you, I'm afraid I have to go."

Draco slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, kissing Hermione tenderly on the shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I simply cannot have you running off to that bloody Tower to spend time with stupid Potter and the Weasel whilst I pine away in the bloody dungeons" he protested playfully, but he knew she was right. They couldn't stay here all night like they had before. Reluctantly, Hermione pried herself free, finding her clothes bit by bit. "Meet me here tomorrow, same time, alright?"

Finding his own clothes, he sullenly pulled on his pants and buttoned his shirt. "Yeah, alright." Fully dressed, the pair made their way to the door, sharing one last tender kiss before peeking out the door to make sure the coast was clear. "Goodnight my love", Draco whispered. "I love you, see you tomorrow" Hermione replied, ruffling his hair playfully and winking as she turned and walked down the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower, heart full of love and head full of the sobering knowledge that from now on, _ everything_ would be different.

**Once again, please review, all of you are fantastic! Cheers, Ms. Mollie :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Ron's Rage

**Here it is, dear readers, chapter 10. I can't say it enough, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has reviewed, you guys bolster my fragile ego and make we want to continue this story despite feeling like I am in over my head when it comes to the increasingly dramatic plot. Enough of my ramblings, hope you all like it, and as always, please review :)**

Draco lay awake in his bed in the dungeons, feeling all together too wonderful and too rotten to even think of sleep. On the one hand, he was elated; Hermione loved him, and he loved her, and that made everything seem right in the world. On the other, even the love of a woman as extraordinary as Hermione Granger did not change the fact that in his world, nothing at all was right.

He tossed and turned relentlessly, achieving nothing but getting his legs hopelessly tangled in the emerald green sheets of his four poster. He had to come up with a plan, some way to get himself out of the disaster that his life had become. More importantly, he needed to figure out how to protect Hermione. Draco was horrified at his foolishness; he had put Hermione in unimaginable danger by telling her of the Dark Lord's plans. Now that she knew the truth, she was in as much peril as he was. He had to find a solution, a way for them to escape the war that they both knew was coming.

Then, Draco was kicking himself. _Escape, _of course! He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. As much as it pained him to think of it, he knew that the only way to keep Hermione out of harm's way was for them to run away together, to get out of the country, as far from Voldemort as they could go. He knew that Hermione would hate it, but he also knew that there was no other way. She didn't know what the Dark Lord was capable of, not really. Sure she had heard from Potter over the years, and seen him last year in the Department of Mysteries, but Draco had watched him torture and kill wizards guilty of far less than failing to carry out a task as important as the assassination of Voldemort's most powerful enemy. He would just have to convince her that running was the only way, that Voldemort was too strong to face, that they had to run. Gryffindor bravery would not do, it would have to be Slytherin cunning that would save them.

In a very different part of the castle, Hermione was similarly troubled and unable to sleep. In the quiet dark of her dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, everything that had happened in the past few hours finally started to sink in. Her new-found relationship with Draco, his confession, her secret from Ron, her fight with Harry, _ Draco's _fight with Harry – all pounded mercilessly at her subconscious, conflicting emotions threatening to tear her apart. She loved Draco, and wanted more than anything to be with him, but at what cost? There was a very real possibility that she would have to sacrifice her friendships with Harry and Ron, not to mention Ginny and the others, if she and Draco were going to be together. In the Room, everything had seemed so simple; she and Draco seemed to be the only two people in the world. In there, it had been all too easy to say damn the consequences and tell Draco that they would find a way, but now a harsh reality had set in. Hermione Granger, always the clever one with an answer to every question, had no idea what the bloody hell to do.

As much as she hated the thought of keeping more secrets from them, she knew she could never tell Harry and Ron what Draco had revealed to her. They would never understand about her and Draco, they were too protective of her, and too prejudiced against him, his house, and his family. They would never believe that Draco was trapped, and that he wanted no part of any of it, that he was imprisoned by fear and and the desperate desire to save his own life and the life of his mother. No, she would have to go without the support of her two best friends.

A thousand different scenarios played out in Hermione's head, all circling towards the one that she had desperately been hoping to avoid. She wished things were different, but she did not see a way to protect Draco without going to Dumbledore. She knew that Draco would hate it, but she had to make him understand that they couldn't hope to face him alone, that as clever as they both were, they were no match for the Dark Lord and his dark and innumerable resources. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was as kind and powerful a wizard as any who had had ever lived, and with his help and the information that Draco had about Voldemort's plans, they might have a chance at beating him once and for all. Hermione was terrified, but she was still a Gryffindor, she knew she had to stand and fight for what she believed in even if her every instinct told her to run away with Draco and never look back.

Having been awake for hours the night before, by the time sleep finally found her, Hermione was dead tired and slept through breakfast. Groggily, she made her way to the bathroom for a scalding shower, hoping that the hot water would burn away some of the uncertainty that had settled on heart in the past 24 hours. Though the shower did nothing to quell her doubts, she now felt fully awake and slightly more prepared to face the day, trying as it would prove to be.

Dressed in faded jeans and an old Chudley Cannons t-shirt that she had knicked from Ron's dresser at the Burrow and never returned, she padded softly down to the common room, simultaneously relieved and anxious upon seeing that Harry and Ron were the room's only occupants. "Oi, I've been looking for that shirt for months, you bloody thief!", Ron said with mock anger, a lopsided smirk and a mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes betraying his act. Hermione faltered momentarily, mumbling an awkward apology before she looked up and saw Ron's cheeky grin. "Hermione, relax, I'm only joking. Keep the shirt, I've got loads of Cannons stuff, though I might chuck it all the way their Chasers have been playing this year", he said with a chuckle, sharing a knowing glance with Harry.

"Oh, right. Thanks then", Hermione replied, relieved that Ron didn't want his shirt back. As much as she was over him, it was still comforting to have the familiar article of Ron's clothing; it made her feel safe and at home and like herself in a way that none of her own clothes ever did. She settled in between Ron and Harry on the couch, the two scooting to the ends to make room for their friend. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, starting to feel normal for the first time in what felt like a hundred years, nearly forgetting all of her troubles as she fell into easy conversation about classes and all manner of trivial things with her boys.

Then, during a lull in the conversation, Ron cocked his head and said, "You know, I've been meaning to talk to you two about something, but it seems like we haven't all three been together without anyone else to interrupt in a while. The thing is, not that he isn't a slimy little git all the time, and maybe it's just my deep and abiding hatred for the bastard, but it seems like Malfoy has been more of an arrogant prick than usual these past few days, strutting about the castle like a ruddy proud rooster. Why do y'reckon that is?".

Harry and Hermione both coughed and sputtered, choking on the tea that the house elves had put out for them. They both attempted a quick recovery, Harry swallowing hard and Hermione doing her best to nonchalantly fiddle with her teacup, but Ron knew them both too well to buy their act. "Oi you two, out with it! What do you know that you're not telling me?" Harry looked at Hermione pointedly, daring her to try to lie to their friend. Ron's eyes darted quickly between the two, trying desperately to interpret Harry's bold expression and Hermione's frightened one.

" 'Mione, seriously, what the bloody hell is it? You know you'll end up giving in and telling me eventually, so you may as well come out with it." Ron stared at her unblinkingly, the earnest curiosity in his piercing blue eyes nearly causing her to fall to pieces right then and there. She looked up at Harry pitifully. He nodded encouragingly at her as she took a deep breath and steeled herself for Ron's legendary temper.

"Alright Ronald, I do know something about why Draco has been acting differently lately", she began, staring at her feet, completely unwilling and unable to meet the gaze that she could feel burning a hole straight through to her very soul. "Wait a bloody second..._Draco_? Since sodding when do you refer to that vile little ferret as Draco – Harry, what is all this about?" he demanded of their raven-haired friend. Harry only shrugged noncommittally. "Just let her finish mate", he muttered darkly as he turned back towards Hermione, who chanced a fleeting glance at Ron's confused and frustrated expression before she continued, heart pounding in her chest as guilt filled her up full.

"First of all, please be a gentleman and let me tell you the whole story before you go all barking mad ginger and start cursing and threatening to hex anyone's balls off". Ron could only stand open-mouthed at her, nodding numbly. "Right. Thanks. I appreciate that, and you had better keep your word." Hermione insisted, using her most bossy and commanding tone, though she in no way felt in control of the situation that was unfolding in this familiar place that may as well have been another planet for how out of sorts Hermione was. Ron's brow was now stitched in what seemed to be a permanent look of discomfited bewilderment, but for the moment, he kept quiet. Harry's eyes fixed on him with an anxiety that nearly matched Hermione's, wand not yet in his hand but strategically placed so that he could intervene when Ron inevitably exploded like a blast-ended skrewt.

"So like I was saying, I know something about why Draco has been acting like more of an arrogant prat than usual. You see, Draco and I have been...well erm, I suppose you could say that we're seeing each other." At that last confession, Hermione winced, bracing her mind and body for the worst. True to form, Ron shot up off the couch, sending the tea set and a wizard's chess board flying. For a terrible moment, the only sound in the room was shattering china and ivory clattering noisily over the stone floor, echoing for what seemed an eternity.

Then, in a familiar voice tainted with anger and disdain that made Hermione's stomach churn, Ron bellowed, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? YOU AND _MALFOY? _I'LL KILL HIM, I SWEAR TO MERLIN!" He paced around the room, fists clenching and unclenching menacingly as his face turned a shade darker red than his fiery hair. "I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!" His volume lowered slightly, but it was replaced by more malice and disgust than Hermione ever thought Ron was capable of. "He is a Slytherin Hermione, and if Harry is right, and I think he is, he is also a goddamn Death Eater! So again, what the bloody hell are you thinking?"

Hermione, who had up to now been fighting with all of her considerable inner strength to keep her composure, burst into tears. "Ron, I'm so so sorry. Please try to understand. It's not some fling or casual affair. I love him, and he loves me". She met his eyes and saw a flash of tenderness and compassion as he observed the tears streaming down her face before she saw something break behind his eyes. "You lo- what? You _love _ him? How could you, 'Mione? After everything he's done – to you, to me, to Harry for Merlin's sake. After everything between you and I..." Ron's voice trailed off guiltily, knowing that he had admitted something he had never intended Hermione to know.

Grasping at what seemed to be her only chance at an emotion other than hopelessness and guilt, she whirled on Ron with defiance etched onto her pretty features. "Everything between you and I? What the hell does that even mean? We spent a Summer shagging, at the end of which you and I had reached what I thought was an understanding about us being better off as friends. And then you haul off and start dating the first blonde bimbo with big tits who thinks her Won Won is _simply brilliant_ at Quidditch and have been firmly attached to her lips all term. How dare you Ron Weasley? How dare you presume to have any say in who I choose to shag?"

At the word _shag_ all the color drained from Ron's face, leaving him pale as a sheet as he slumped pitifully into a chair. All the venom in his voice was now gone, replaced by despair and hopeless longing. "You sh-...gods Hermione, I don't even know what to say. I mean, after this Summer, I know I said we should just be friends, but I really only said it because that's what you wanted, and I was too bloody proud to tell you that what I really wanted was to be with you. And Lavender, well, I know I'm a right prat for it, but I've just been carrying on with her because it was the only way I could stop from thinking about you every minute of every day. Hermione, I can't...I love you, alright? And I'm sorry about Lavender, but sleeping with Malfoy? We're supposed to be together, you and I, can't you see that?" Ron's breath hitched in his chest at the effort of fighting back tears as he dug his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, savagely wiping away the tears that had begun to form.

Hermione had never felt so lost in her life. She was completely taken aback by Ron's admission, and looked to Harry for any indication of what she should do, but he only stared at Ron with a worried but unsurprised frown on his face. _Harry knew Ron felt this way_, Hermione lamented. She had been completely unaware of his feelings, thinking that he was just a hormonal teenager and that his feelings for her were simply platonic affection and physical attraction, mirroring the way she felt about him. Now, the truth laid bare in front of her, Hermione's heart shattered with the weight of the pain she caused him.

"Ron, I'm just – I never meant..." Hermione's voice broke, unable to continue for grief and for lack of any words sufficient enough to express how sorry she was, how much regret she felt for making Ron feel this way. She was nearly lost to dark daydreams of Ron's tear-filled eyes when his voice brought her back to the present. "Hermione, don't. There's nothing you can say right now that will fix anything. I just...if it had been Krum, or even bloody McLaggen, I'd have understood. I'd have been angry and moody and pathetic for a while but I'd have gotten over it, but this, Malfoy...I just can't."

Ron hung his head low, drew a deep, ragged breath, and rose slowly, headed for the sixth year boys' dormitory. Hermione moved to follow him, but a stern look from Harry stopped her in her tracks. "Let him go, 'Mione, there's nothing for it but to leave him be for now." He ran his fingers through his hair, bracing his hands on his knees as he stood and walked somberly out of the portrait hole, leaving Hermione alone again, feeling utterly wretched about what had just transpired between her and her two best friends, more bewildered and despondent than ever.

Knowing she could not simply sit in the Common Room and wallow, but not knowing where to go, she rose and simply followed her feet out of Gryffindor Tower, going nowhere in particular until she looked out of a narrow window and spotted a slender blonde figure sitting alone on the nearest shore of the Black Lake. She made her way slowly outside toward Draco, arms drawn tightly to herself to fight off a chill that had little to do with the weather.

**So I know the ending of this chapter is rather anti-climactic, but it was getting long so I've decided to break it up. I'll be updating soon, I promise. Please let me know what you think about Harry and Ron in this one, the story has pretty much been Draco and Hermione in their own little world up to this point, and I'm not sure I got Ron's reaction or Harry's response quite right. Cheers and thanks in advance for your feedback.**

**~ Ms. Mollie**


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